


No One Will Ever See THE SEQUEL

by MichaelYells



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Self-Harm, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichaelYells/pseuds/MichaelYells
Summary: Someone saw his personal video, and now he's facing the consequences.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman, Jared Kleinman/Connor Murphy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	No One Will Ever See THE SEQUEL

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.

Oh fuck, oh god, oh shit, what was he supposed to do? Jared drove home slowly, making several cars honk at him, annoyed. But.. what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just not go home. At a red light, he got out his phone, reading over the texts.

[hey jared]

(?)

[I found something recently on your phone  
it would be a shame if it were sent to everyone you knew]

(What????)

[a certain video? Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?]

(...)

[oh, so you do know?]

(Don't show anyone  
You shouldn't have that  
Delete it)

[no, but thanks for the offer  
what would you do to keep it a secret?]

(Anything don't show anyone  
Please)

[so we confirm you would do anything]

(Yes. Please delete it)

[Cut your arms. One slash each. Deep. Record it.]

(Youre serious? This isnt a fucked up joke?)

[you have an hour time the second you get home. I'm serious.]

(...  
Okay)

The car behind him honked, making him jump and realize that the light certainly wasn't wasn't red anymore. He hurriedly set down his phone and continued on, barely meeting the speed limit. Still... he ended up making it home within 20 minutes. He took a few minutes just sitting in the car before carefully getting out and walking in. He was being as silent as possible, as if that would help him for some reason. He glanced at his phone every few seconds to see if he got a message from the mysterious person. He made it too his room before he got the text. 

[you have an hour]

He didn't say anything. Just sat on his bed and brought his legs up to his chest. Fuck, shit, damn. What was he going to do? Fuck. He coudln't just do that. It. That was impossible. He had never purposefully hurt himself. He took off his button up so all he wore was his T-shirt. More arm access. He stared at his unmarred arm. Fuck. He had to... no. He coudln't do that. He messaged Evan. 

*Hey. Can I come over?* No.... no, he couldn't do that to Evan. Even would probably be one of the first people do see the video, too, and that would embarass himself more. He deleted his message. 

God, Jared coudln't do this. It.. would hurt. Fuck, it would hurt. Of course it would hurt. He would be cutting his arm. Both arms. He felt sick. He had to. He couldn't let anyone see. Jared wasn't even out. What did he say in the video? Did he talk? Jared didn't remember.. He was too far gone. What if hos parents saw, even? No.. no, Jared couldn't deal with that. He would get banned from everything. He had to do it. 

How would he do it? Scissors? No.. they werent that sharp, and Jared didn't even have a good pair of scissors. Only the little kid kind. No... he looked around. His eyes landed on a pencil sharpener. He thought about taking it apart and using it. His arm felt weak. That wouldnt work. The blade was small and flimsy. A knife. Oh, yeah, a knife would work. It was hard, and sharp, and big enough. Jared.. Jared had a pocket knife. He went digging in his drawers, and found it. He opened it. It... would work. 

Fuck, fuck, no, this wouldnt work. His stoamch filled with dread. He checked the time. Ten minutes had passed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. No. He couldn't. His eyes whelled with tears. He threw the pocket knife accross the room, not looking where it went. His eyes went blurry and he took off his glasses so they woudlnt get wet or foggy. 

Why? Why would anyone do that? He was just... trying to have some fun. No one was ever supposed to see it. It was supposed to be just for him. To watch once, maybe twice afterwards and then delete it. Actually, he forgot it even existed. He didn't even get to watch it. He just enjoyed himself making it. Who knew how much a mistake that was. He wiped his eyes and looked towards the closet. 

Maybe he can burn everything. There will be no evidence. No.. he needed to start using his fucking head. The evidence would be the video. He couldn't just say it didn't happen just because he didn't have his fucking pink tail butt plug anymore. God. His blind eyes searched the floor for his pocket knife. He forced himself to stand up and put his glasses back on. 

Five fucking minutes later and he finally found the pocket knife under his desk. It took too fucking long doing that. He was running out of time. His hands were shaking by the time he managed to fine it. Oh, god. What if it didn't work? What if he didn't go deep enough? The blade was too dull? He only got one arm? He ran out of time? The thoughts ran wild through his head. 

Panic filled up his chest. Fuck. He can't do this. No, no, no, no, no. This was too much. He cant do that to his arms. It'll hurt. Its too much. He cant do that. No one sane would do that to themself. Crazy people did that. People who wanted to die. Jared didn't want to die. He wanted to live his life. Why did this happen to him? Jared didn't do anything. He thought it was kind of funny when the stalker messaged him. This wasn't funny. This was the opposite of funny. He didnt deserve this. He didn't do anything. God, fuck, no, no, no, no, no. 

Jared forced himself to calm down. He checked his phone. A notification showed up. 

[30 minutes. Better hurry]

More tears. No, Jared, stop it. His arms felt weak thinking about what he would have to do. With shaking hands, he set up his phone, where he could sit on the bed and still be completely in frame. He looked at his arms. Oh, fuck, he had to do it. He held the knife to his arm. 

Wait. Blood. There was going to be blood. He got off the bed and threw off the blankets, so all that was left was the sheets. Okay, it.. was time. Fuck. A little less than half an hour. 

He turned on the recording. He stared at it. "Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath. Why did he have to do this?

He pressed the blade against his skin. Was it sharp enough? God, he hoped it was. He'd have to do it all over again if it wasn't. Or, maybe, he would just be deemed a failure, and the video would be sent to everyone who he knew. No.. he had to get it right the first time. If he pressed down hard enough, it would be fine. It would go deep enough, and then he'd hurriedly do the other one. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he mumbled and squeezed his eyes shut. "Three..." a whine left his throat. He didn't want to do this. "Two..." his hands shook, and he pressed harder against his skin. It hurt already. "One." He swung his hand down so the knife cut a large lind down his arm. 

He felt the skin separate, the flesh come apart, pain, and wet. A cry left his lips unintentionally. He pressed his hand against the wound to stop the blood, but he jerked it away at the immediate burning pain. He opened his eyes, and immediately felt sick to his stomach. 

His arm was cut open. Really cut open. He could see the pink, shiny flesh clearly, and ut dripped with an almost bright red. A lot. It wasnt stopping. He felt dizzy. "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god." His hand shook and the knife fell right out of it. "Too much, too much, too much," he tried ti place his hand over it but it did nothing, only got blood everywhere. He didn't know what to do. He felt dizzy. It was too much, too bloody, too deep, too wet, too painful. Hw couldn't handle it.

"I..." He looked up at the camera. You could see his eyes gloss over before his body fell to the side and he passed out. 

The recording kept going. One minute passed, two minutes passed, three, four, five, six. A knock at the door. A female voice. "Jared, honey, we heard you-" and a scream. An ear piercing scream that caused the phone to fall from where it was held up. 

He only got one arm.

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry.


End file.
